


Soulmates

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Martin/Douglas soulmate AU ficlets</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wings

**Author's Note:**

> These were originally posted to tumblr, and were all written from requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "One's wings only grow when one meets one's soulmate AU!" (requested by anonymous)

Douglas just managed to stop himself from jumping when he felt it, though the other man, who had introduced himself as Martin Crieff, nearly jumped out of his skin. The sudden unfurling of muscles and feathers against his back was unexpected but not…unwelcome. The younger man, nervous though he seemed, was attractive and polite, and the wide eyed way he looked at Douglas, eyes just starting to light with incredulous hope, was utterly charming in Douglas’ mind. He grinned, and rolled his shoulders slightly, the wings shifting as they grew, and clasped the hand he had been shaking a little tighter.

“Well Martin,” he drawled, letting the name linger on his tongue. Martin flushed slightly and Douglas felt his heart flutter, excited and anticipatory all at once.

“I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

Martin smiled brightly, an agreement and enthusiasm wrapped into one gesture, and Douglas knows right then he doesn’t stand a chance. He had been flying most of his life, but he knew, wings fluttering at his back as Martin carefully dons his captain’s hat for the first time, that this was something else entirely.


	2. Trans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by lepidosauria: "this is dumb but SOULMATE AU (and also trans headcanons): ur soulmate's name appears on ur skin like a tattoo when u get closer to meeting them and douglas RLY loves martin but is worried by another name appearing on his skin until martin confesses he’s trans and the name on douglas’ skin ends up being the name he (she or they) chooses for him (her or their) self "

It’s been years since Martin first walked into the portakabin, the new captain of MJN Air. Years since that prissy, uptight, defensive, rule-obsessed man walked into Douglas’ life and its years that Douglas has had to fall in love with him. Douglas is utterly smitten, and he knows it. He’s stupidly, annoyingly, overwhelmingly in love with his co-pilot, and it just so happens that said co-pilot loves him back. Which is brilliant, really and truly, absolutely wonderful, except for one small detail.

It isn’t ’ _Martin_ ’ written on his arm. His arm, where the name of his soulmate is printed, the person he’s destined to be with, and it’s _not Martin_. Douglas wants to rage at the universe, to curse the ink, to pretend it isn’t even there, but there’s no denying what it says, and for once, he doesn’t know what to do.

He worries and thinks and worries some more, right up until the day Martin hesitantly asked if they could talk. A feeling of dread shoots through him like ice, fearing this is the day Martin admits it isn’t Douglas he’s supposed to be with and ending what they’ve both clung to. He braces himself and waits.

Martin’s words come out in a rush, ’ _DouglasI'mtrans_ ’, slightly panicked and high-pitched, and Douglas has to take a moment to decipher what has actually been said. When he does, he blinks, and rushes to reassure Martin, elaborations are made, and their bond becomes tighter than ever. 

Douglas holds Martin close and silently decides that, fuck the universe, he loves Martin and Martin loves him and that’s all they need. He ignores the near tangible weight of the name on his arm.

Later, Martin comes to him, nervous but sure, and asks Douglas to call him by another name because ‘Martin’ just doesn’t fit. Douglas tests the name on his tongue, lets the letters roll around and linger. He sees how his partner looks more content now, more settled. He thinks again of the name printed on his skin, and he smiles. Perfect match.


	3. Compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by preux-chevalier: "COMPASS POINTS TO YOUR SOULMATE GO GO GO"

The needle doesn’t stop spinning until Douglas is twenty years old. That is…quite the age gap, and he makes a point of _not_ thinking about his soulmate for at least the next 18 years.

It’s over twenty years from when the compass first started pointing somewhere, and Douglas is just out of his second marriage. Maybe he’s a little desperate or a little lonely or a little of both, but he takes a year off to try and follow the arrow. He gets a good vacation out of the time, at the very least, darts across Europe and winds up in Wokingham of all places at one point, but at the end of the year, he’s no closer to finding his other half than before. He returns to an empty flat and an empty life and he just feels tired.

He knows alcohol really wasn’t the best solution, but he downs it anyway.

=

Years later, he’s sober, divorced again, and older and more tired than ever. Some part of him has honestly given up on finding his soulmate. He’s in his fifties, his career took a nosedive, and he’s working as _first officer_ in a tiny charter company in Fitton. What appeal was there for someone twenty years his junior?

It’s a typical day at the airfield when Carolyn comes striding in to the portakabin, announcing their new captain. A young man follows her, fidgeting slightly, and introduces himself as Martin Crieff, and Douglas wants to write him off, like he’s done with the other captains they’ve had, but something stops him. He settles on looking only mildly interested and reaches out to shake hands. Hands clasp and _something_ clicks between them. Douglas absently glances down and freezes completely.

The arrow of his compass is pointing unerringly at this new captain, and his arrow is pointed right at Douglas in return. Douglas’ gaze snaps back to Martin’s face and Martin is younger than him, at least a decade and most likely two. Douglas swallows hard and sees his own shock reflected back from bright blue eyes.

“I-, you-” Martin stops and starts again, licking his lips. “I thought I’d never find you.”

Douglas feels something heavy lift off his chest, like he’s breathing fresh air for the first time.

“So did I. I…I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

The look Martin gives him is compassion and heartbreak and desperation and countless nights alone and wondering and hoping, and suddenly Martin is in his arms. Douglas breathes deep and holds tight and thanks god he’s finally found.


	4. Tattoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by wellamarke: "the one where the wrist tattoo gets more complicated because like. douglas’s keeps adding rings until there are 8 which solidify into 4 bars oooh"

There is a ring around Douglas’ wrist. It is thin and black, plain and simple, and it has been there his whole life. Never changing, never moving, never expanding, the simple line sits just below the joint, and after decades of his life and three marriages pass, he feels a little like it’s mocking him.

MJN is a nice place to be, he supposes, settled into this little company, and its reliable and predictable, and he thinks that up until the day Martin Crieff walks in the door, apparently the newest captain. He’s anxious, assertive, self-doubting, and he makes another ring appear when they shake hands, and Douglas really doesn’t know what to do about that.

=

The rings have multiplied.

Eight rings circle his forearm, as plain and unadorned as the first, but there’s eight, and Douglas wonders if there’s a significance to the number. It’s been a year of Captain Crieff and First Officer Richardson, and steadily the rings have grown as time has passed and Martin becomes ever more integrated into MJN.

They kiss for the first time in the doorway of a cheap hotel room in Spain. Well, it’s more like Martin kissed Douglas, and Douglas just went with it, enthusiastically, energetically, and passionately.

Douglas stares at his arm later that night, with Martin curled close on the room’s single bed. The eight rings have merged into four bars.

( _Oh_ , he thinks, glancing at Martin, _oh_.)

He knew, of course he knew, with how the rings had started expanding the more he spent time with Martin, some part of him definitely knew. But this, this is confirmation in a very real, permanent way.

There is a part of his mind that grumbles about it being the stripes that are tattooed to his skin, a reminder of the position he lost, but he sees Martin now, practically glowing and the delight in his eyes every time he looks at Douglas. He catches a glimpse once, of the other man’s wrist, ringed with three bars. And Douglas feels the last lingering bitterness of his rank fade away, chased into oblivion by the brush of Martin’s fingers, the corners of his smile, and the sudden small addition of color to the bars on his arm. It’s a rich bright blue, the color of the ocean, the sky, and Martin’s eyes.

=

They make love for the first time at Douglas’ place, after a long and warm evening out. It is a little bit of awkwardness, a little more laughter, and a lot more pleasure, and in the afterglow, Douglas watches as the stripes shift out of their uniform rigid design. The lines curl and dip, like water, waves on his skin, and he watches Martin’s mark shift as well. His bars are rougher, less controlled, and look a bit like flames licking at the skin.

Water and fire. Opposites, yin and yang, balance. It’s fitting.

=

Their wedding is in the spring, an outside affair, surrounded by friends and family. Martin looks happy enough to burst and Douglas thinks his heart might just fly out of his chest. Vows are made, rings are exchanged, and they kiss to applause and cheers. A plane roars overhead, a coincidence, but perfect timing, and the ceremony devolves into celebration.

Near the end of the reception, Martin and Douglas are still on the dance floor, simply swaying, pressed close. Douglas, in a moment of sudden curiosity, pushes his sleeve up, and Martin does the same.

The bars have bloomed. Flowers reach out of the once plain lines, swirling over skin in an intricate array of petals and swirls and buds. Their marks differ, but here and there, a matching rose or a tulip, a forget-me-not, a daisy. A veritable garden spreads across their arms now.

_Life_ , Douglas thinks, staring at the glittering ring on his finger. A new life.

Douglas smiles.


	5. Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> linguini17 requested: "Body is covered by marks from the people you love, and you don't know which is your soulmate until they show you their matching one."

Martin doesn’t have a lot of marks on him. His whole life, he’s realized he doesn’t love all that easily, and only his family and a handful of friends have made themselves a part of his skin. He knows which one belongs to his parents, his siblings, but the rest are a bit of a jumble, and he hasn’t quite figured them out yet. He just counts himself lucky that he has enough to be hard to distinguish. So it’s really a bit of a surprise to find a few new marks have formed about a year and a half after joining MJN.

Martin knows who they’re for, it’s fairly obvious after all, but it kind of surprises him all the same. He hadn’t walked into this company expecting anything but a job, but apparently he’d found something far more precious than that. He stares at the three marks (though he has to use a mirror for one of them) and tries not to wonder if the people they represent have a mark for him as well.

=

There is a familiar looking mark on Douglas’ chest, right below the dip between his collarbones. It sits there, innocently displayed, and Martin only happened to catch a glimpse of it because Douglas was changing his shirt, but it freezes him where he sits. The exact same mark sits between his shoulder blades, and he’s studied it enough in the mirror to recognize that Douglas’ mark is an exact match.

Martin’s whole world feels like it’s tilting and Douglas is oblivious as he digs through his bag. It’s only when he looks up and glances at Martin that he sees the other man looks like he’s run into a brick wall.

“Martin? Everything alright?”

Martin’s gaze snaps to Douglas’ face at the inquiry, and Douglas’ face is crinkled in concern, his normal aloof demeanor dropped for Martin’s sake. Martin stares into Douglas’ dark eyes, and thinks ’ _well, fuck_ ’, and lunges forward.

Douglas makes a startled sound against Martin’s mouth, but he doesn’t pull away, and Martin internally sighs with relief, just before something that feels like fireworks explodes in his chest. There is warmth and electricity, the end of a long flight, puzzle pieces clicking into place, and _holy shit I found my soulmate_. Martin and Douglas break apart after a long moment, breathless and clinging to each other, and Douglas manages to find his voice first.

“What” he begins, voice rough, “brought that on? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

Martin flushes red, because it really was very impulsive on his part, but he reaches a hand out and lightly brushes his fingers against Douglas’ mark. There are others scattered across Douglas’ torso, around his back and arms, and one on his hip, but Martin focuses on the one in particular.

Douglas loves easily, as much as he’d likely deny it, and Martin can see the physical evidence of how vast Douglas’ love can be. Martin honestly feels grateful to be loved by a man like Douglas, and as he traces the lines of the mark, he sees the realization hit Douglas.

Douglas reaches up to cover Martin’s hand with his own, and almost hesitantly asks,

“Yours?”

Martin carefully turns, shucking his shirt, baring his own mark for Douglas’ inspection. He hears Douglas draw in a breath, then suddenly jumps. Douglas had leaned down and pressed a kiss to the mark, gentle and quick, warm breath ghosting over Martin’s skin. Martin leans back, Douglas’ arms wrapping around him, and with their marks pressed together, they both feel utterly complete.


	6. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "Oh, maybe a bonding AU? Like, only when they try to bond they see if they, in fact, CAN bond and are soulmates??!!? (This way it's an established relationship prompt :D)"

Martin had never really thought about it. Well, he had, a bit, but not much and not too deeply. It just wasn’t something he had enough confidence for to even consider bringing up.

Because Douglas was, to put it simply, amazing. Smart, skilled, charming and sweet, handsome and self-assured. Martin thought he was surely dreaming, having the romantic interest of a man like Douglas.

This was just…a lucky break, surely, and trying to make it something more would just ruin it. Best be glad with what he had and leave at that it for as long as he could have it.

So it was rather unexpected when Douglas was the one to bring it up.

“…bonding?”

“Yes,” Douglas confirmed, suddenly looking hesitant, “if you want.”

Martin was struck speechless, and Douglas shifted a little uncomfortably. He broke the silence first.

“Look if its too much-”

“No! No, its fine, brilliant even, I just…I didn’t think you’d want to…”

Douglas blinked, raising an eyebrow at Martin in disbelief.

“Not want to- Martin, there is no one else I’d rather try it with.”

Martin swallowed hard, unable to form a verbal response in the face of such a declaration, and instead settled on pressing close to Douglas. He tried to convey all he was feeling, all the love he had for Douglas, and all the years they had spent going from coworkers to friends to lovers in the tightening of his arms and he knew Douglas understood.

“Shall we?”

Douglas whispered into the quiet of the room. Martin nodded.

Hands touch, eyes meet, and the silence of the room was near deafening as they began. They both wanted nothing more than this, a bond, permanent and tangible proof that they belonged together. If it didn’t work…well, they’d figure it out from there, but for now they focused, breathing in time.

There was a moment or two of mentally pushing and prodding at emptiness, and Martin worried that they weren’t meant to be, until suddenly something collided and locked. A brief struggle, and like a wave breaking, they settled into each other.

‘ _Soulmates_ ’, Martin thought, they were _soulmates_. And wasn’t that just beautiful.


	7. Impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brilliant-tomato requested: "Soulmate AU thingy: You get an ‘impression’ of your soulmate when you turn 18 or something but all I got was a strong smell of bananas or an overwhelming feeling that Thatcher was a good prime minister or an image in my mind of a fucking unicorn "

When Douglas turns eighteen, he gets a rather prolonged amount of what can only be classified as white noise, followed by a strong desire to be flying. For a moment he’s torn between confusion and the urge to go skydiving, but settles on hunting for information. Apparently having all that white noise beforehand simply meant his soulmate wasn’t born yet. Rare, but not unheard of. Douglas frowned. Fate or not, he kind of felt like a cradle robber.

-

When Martin turns eighteen, he is suddenly besieged with a beautiful piece of piano music. The notes flow like water, smooth and sure, forming a truly masterful rendition of a classic song Martin is sure he’s heard before. The music fades, and he’s left wondering if his soulmate plays or simply enjoys, and he finds himself going out later and browsing for classical music.

=

Martin is in his thirties and finally a pilot and working as the captain for MJN Air, and everything is actually pretty great for him, all things considered. At the moment, he may have a sprained ankle, but it’s kind of amusing having Douglas drive his van and Arthur in the backseat, and he’s just starting to find the humor here when Douglas opens up the piano he’s meant to deliver and starts playing.

Martin freezes, and suddenly he’s transported years into the past, when he was eighteen years old and hit with a sudden impression of music. The playing style is the exact same, the same piece, the same everything, and Martin stares hard at Douglas and wonders.

Maybe he’s a bit snappish after that, but he suddenly has more to worry about than his van job, and he isn’t quite sure how to go about confirming his theory. It’s not like he can just go up to Douglas and ask ’ _hey the way you play piano is eerily similar to the soulmate impression I got, do you think we’re supposed to be together?_ ’. He might not be as informed about proper social etiquette as Douglas, but he definitely knows that’s not the way to do it.

=

Douglas watches carefully as Martin descends from GERTI’s steps, making sure he doesn’t fall on his sprained ankle, and contemplating. Because Martin had named his company Icarus Removals. The first pilot in history, as he’d pointed out. Martin had wanted to be a pilot ever since he was six. Martin lived and breathed flying. Martin was a good two decades younger than him.

Douglas had been toying with the idea for a while now, that Martin might be the one, ever since he’d started kind of sort of crushing on him. It was odd for Douglas, because Martin was nothing like what he usually went for, and that was the first clue. He supposes that at this point it depends on what Martin feels about him, and there’s really no easy way to ask that.

=

As it turns out, everything culminates because of Arthur. Not on purpose, but he’d been the one to knock Douglas off balance and send him toppling towards Martin. Douglas just managed to catch himself, but too late to prevent a physical collision, and before either of them know it, their lips are pressed together. They freeze in place, both from surprise and because the impressions they had both received all those years ago at eighteen come roaring back. Martin can hear the piano notes clear as day, and Douglas barely stops himself from running outside and into GERTI’s flight deck.

There is a moment of mutual realization, a semi-awkward silence as they both stare wide-eyed at each other, before they both jerk forward and kiss again, this time far more intentional. Arthur quickly darts out of the portakabin.


	8. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "Music/Singing soulmate AU please? When they hear their soulmate sing for the first time something clicks in them, like a burden lifted, like a sky clearing, and they just *know*."

The first time Martin hears Douglas sing, he’s been with MJN not even a year. It’s been long enough for them to have established a way of working, but short enough that they don’t quite know each other that well beyond a professional relationship.

Douglas, as Martin discovers, likes his fun. Word games and playful cabin addresses, Martin grows used to, but he’d never heard Douglas sing until a day they’re flying a cargo flight out east. It’s more to himself than anything, and only partly audible, but there’s enough effort on Douglas’ part that Martin can hear just how nice a voice Douglas has. His low baritone caresses the notes and dips and rises with the melody, striking something in Martin.

And good lord, Martin thinks, because it’s not just a general attraction to an attractive voice, because he’s felt that before. This is something overwhelming, something profound, something so right, and this feeling he has means- _shit_.

Martin forcibly stops himself from finishing that thought. Douglas is _married_. Quite happily, according to him. Martin carefully takes this revelation and tucks it away, buries it deep and pretends he never discovered it, and makes a point of never singing in front of Douglas, ever.

=

Douglas sings quite a bit. He’s good at it, he enjoys it, and he’s been doing it all his life. When the new captain makes no protest to his flight deck activities, unlike previous captains, he happily indulges in one of his more persistent habits. And at this point in his life, it really is more of a habit. It was a more conscious decision when he was younger, and a little bit of showing off, if he was being honest, but he’s never seen the need to stop.

(He’d never admit that he sung so much in the hopes of his soulmate hearing him.)

=

The first time Douglas hears Martin sing, it’s been a few years since he joined the company. Douglas is feeling a bit agitated, quiet and moody in a way that’s nearly palpable. He’s come out of his third marriage with another divorce, and being over fifty, he can’t help but wonder if his soulmate is even out there. So maybe he’s feeling a little sorry for himself, because he can’t seem to hold onto love and he’s old and tired and losing hope, and he’s sat at his desk on a rainy day in Fitton.

The singing starts very quiet, hardly more than a hum, and it takes minute for Douglas to register that it’s Martin. He snaps his gaze to the captain, who is busy filling out paperwork, and stares. The humming becomes half-mumbled singing, and Douglas is pleasantly surprised to hear that Martin isn’t all that bad.

The sound fills the room with a sort of warm feeling, and Douglas almost thinks the storm outside must have broken up, if he hadn’t glanced out the window. It’s still raining steadily, but he feels like he’s standing in the sun, and suddenly the penny drops.

Douglas is on his feet and across the room before he knows it because he _knows_ Martin has heard him sing before, so why is he only singing now and-

Martin is staring up at him, a little nervously, a little knowingly, and Douglas remembers.

The divorce had only been settled, both on paper and in himself, fairly recently. Martin knew, though, he’d known for probably a while now, and had walked around for years knowing his soulmate was married to someone else. God, Douglas owed him dinner, at the very least.

Douglas doesn’t say a word, leaning down until they’re face to face, and silently asking for permission, for forgiveness. Martin hesitates only a moment before he’s pulled Douglas into a kiss. They mesh like a perfect harmony, and Douglas thinks the next time he starts singing in the flight deck, he’ll have to get Martin to join in. He has a feeling their voices will be perfect together as well.


	9. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wellamarke requested: "ok what about one where every night you dream what your soulmate was doing that day. as if through their eyes, so you don’t know what they look like."

Martin dreams of flying, most nights. He’s always wanted to be a pilot, always wanted to be in the air, at the controls, and for years he dreams he is. Apparently his soulmate is a pilot themselves, and Martin is kind of in love with them already.

As he gets older and starts studying to get his pilot license himself, Martin realizes that he remembers his dreams enough for them to be helpful. He memorizes the rule books on his own, learns the regulations and procedures, but his hands already know how to fly. He passes his test on his first try, with a score high enough to land him a great job right off. He hopes he’s a little closer to finding his soulmate now, being a pilot too, since he basically owes them for his success.

-

Martin’s dreams of flying stop for a brief period, and become a jumble of alcohol and arguments with someone he can never recall upon waking. He spends those days outside, or doing something enjoyable, warm and bright and content, and hopes he’s giving good dreams in return.

-

Martin flies both in his days and in his nights now. He’s swapped from a large company to the smaller CalAir, and his other half has apparently gone even smaller. He remembers a small flight deck and consistent crew, not like where he works. There’s a flight with Captain Hercules Shipwright one day, and they have need of a small charter airline called MJN. He meets the four members, the enthusiastic steward, the apathetic captain, the intimidating CEO that Herc takes a shine to, and the smug first officer. Martin shakes hands with the first officer, Douglas Richardson, and something between them seems to click, though neither quite realize it at the time.

Later that night, he dreams of a familiar Lockheed Mcdonnell, a familiar small company, Herc, and…himself. Martin jolts awake in shock.

Somewhere a ways away, Douglas sits up in bed, eyes wide and frantically wonders how to get in contact with that first officer from CalAir.

=

Months later, Douglas is sitting at his desk, watching MJN’s newest captain settle in. Martin putters around his desk, before glancing up at Douglas with a smile. CalAir had been sold to Swiss Airways, and Martin had chosen to leave the company and downsize again, filling the newly vacant position in MJN. It had been a happy few months for the both of them, enjoying finding all the ways they fit and even the ways they clashed. 

Douglas used to worry they’d never find each other in the wide world of aviation, as he remembered dreaming of studying and testing and flying and success (and Martin had quite thoroughly thanked him for that last one). He’d seen as Martin had gone up at the same time he’d fallen from grace, and figured it was highly unlikely they’d meet. Fate, however, seemed to have a way of making things happen.


	10. Daemons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "I don't know if you know the His Dark Materials series by Philip Pullman, but if you do, daemon soulmate AU! For those who don't know, people have kind of soul animals (who can talk), and though it is normally very uncomfortable and horrendously awful to touch another person's daemon, for those in close romantic relationships it can be OK, even pleasurable? Maybe Martin or Douglas touches the other's daemon accidentally?"

Anyone who spoke to Martin for more than five minutes typically wound up giving his daemon a funny look, as though questioning why on earth she was what she was. After all, a fox was not what most people would associate with him. He’d learned to ignore the reactions and she typically found ways to console him anyway, so he moved on. He knew why he had a fox and that was all that mattered, really.

Getting hired at MJN was a lot different than other jobs, especially other airline jobs. The company was only four people, only one plane, and that meant everyone was around each other all the time, typically in an enclosed space. It had the benefit of turning them into more of a family than anything, and it also meant that, as they got closer and got to know each other, their respective daemons made more sense. Arthur’s otter and Carolyn’s ocelot were fitting, but in Martin’s case, it was a little different. His fox was sly, mischievous, an observer, and these weren’t really traits he seemed to possess himself, but as time passed, the others saw flashes of a cunning mind that made his daemon’s form make more sense.

Douglas was really the one who saw the most of Martin’s fox-like side. Douglas, his co-pilot, who had a small genet daemon. A pretty cat-like creature, with a long body and tail, agile, quick and resourceful. Martin had reflected that it was lucky they both had relatively small daemons, considering their occupations (He’d met a pilot with a lion once and the man had had quite a few stories about that). The two pilots and their daemons got along well for the most part, and Martin and Douglas let the years of flying together solidify their smooth working relationship into a deep friendship. The only bump in their rather harmonious relationship is the fact that, unbeknownst to them, they both wanted more than just a friendship, though neither was willing to say so. 

=

There’s a day of flying, a cargo flight, where they wind up running into a storm. It’s not too bad, but there are some rough spots, and GERTI is a rather old plane. Martin and Douglas fight with the controls, trying to stay steady as they’re battered by the wind. There is a slight shaking of the flight deck, a patch of turbulence, and Douglas nearly tilts out of his seat. Instinctively, he jerks a hand out to steady himself, but instead of an armrest or control panel, his hand meets soft fur. Long red fur, and definitely not his genet.

For a moment, everything freezes, and Douglas yanks his hand away, an apology already forming, because someone else touching your daemon _hurts_ and he knows this from firsthand experience. But the fox is darting her eyes between Douglas and Martin, looking surprised but not alarmed, and Martin is sitting straight up in his seat, staring wide-eyed at Douglas. He doesn’t look in pain, and it takes a moment for the meaning to hit Douglas.

The penny drops and Douglas feels his own eyes widen in response. The only time physical contact with another person’s daemon doesn’t result in pain is when the two people are destined as soulmates. He swallows hard at the weight of this revelation, scarcely able to believe it. His own daemon pokes her head out from under his arm, where she’d been tucked into his side, turns her head to Douglas, to Martin, then tentatively moves forward. She settles herself beside the fox, where she’s perched between the pilots, and looks up at Martin, waiting. Martin stares at her, bewildered for a second, before looking at Douglas for permission. Douglas nods.

Martin slowly reaches a hand out, hesitant and cautious, before settling it gently on the genet’s head. Douglas jumps as a warm feeling rushes through him, something sweet, something soft. There is a break in the sky outside the windows of the flight deck, a thin stream of sun cutting through the clouds, and Douglas thinks it’s the most fitting backdrop he’s ever had in his life. The light spills over them, catching in Martin’s eyes and lighting them like stars. If this is a sign from the universe, it’s a blazing, flashing, giant, neon one, and Douglas really needs no further hinting to make a move. He reaches his hand out and Martin meets him halfway, their fingers threading together. As much as they’d like to do more, well, they still have to pilot a plane.

Later, after they’ve landed back in Fitton, they don’t even make it out of the flight deck. The genet and the fox turn to look at each other, pointedly not watching as their two pilots snog each other senseless against the door.


	11. Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aura218 requested: "In the distant future, military space pilots are expected to serve their 20 year commitment to the space army before they marry. Douglas is about to retire when his chip pings that Martin is his genetic perfect match. But Martin has 10 more years in the military. What DO they do?"

It’s been twenty years of the military, and Douglas Richardson thinks he is entirely justified in being ready to retire. The job isn’t bad, sometimes fun and sometimes thrilling, but it’s still the military and it has had it’s bad points. Douglas enjoys being a pilot, loves being out in space, but he’s tired.

Twenty years of service, and of those twenty, he’s spent most of them checking his chip, either for news, orders, or communication purposes. And he’d never admit it, but he often found himself checking for his soulmate. Well, technically, the term was “genetic match”, but old romantics like himself preferred “soulmate”. If his match was ever in range, the chip would go off and alert him. He’d been hoping for the thing to beep at him for years. So of course, it’s a good decade later and on the cusp of leaving the military that the chip pings.

Martin Crieff. Handsome face, ginger hair, shorter than him and younger, and another pilot. Douglas swallows hard. He’d gone off to hunt Martin down, finding him at the base, knowing Martin would likely be looking for him as well. They’d hit it off fairly well, and Douglas already quite liked the man. Enthusiastic and smart, with a touch of nervousness that made him charming. It was practically perfect, if not for the fact that Martin still had ten years of service to go. Douglas dragged a hand down his face, wondering if he could wait that long to marry.

The solution came from Martin, actually, and Douglas was a bit surprised he hadn’t managed to think of it himself. He was supposed to be clever and fix things, had a bit of a reputation for just that (Well, more like Arthur Shappey, General Knapp-Shappey’s son, just told anyone who would listen about the time he’d thwarted the general’s ex-husband. It was touching, if Douglas was honest.). Still, it showed that Martin could hold his own with Douglas, further proof of how they fit.

Martin had tilted his head at Douglas, a slightly mischievous look in his eye, as he casually pointed out that the rules only said they had to wait to marry. As Martin had the rulebook memorized, Douglas was inclined to believe him, and the line of thought he was going down definitely looked appealing.

Living together, dating, even sex…Martin flushed red as he listed off all those things, innocently citing that there wasn’t anywhere in the book that said they couldn’t. Douglas beamed, all at once proud and adoring. Their age gap was a rare occurrence in soulmates, so it was nice to not really have to wait an entire ten years. Martin’s obsession with the rules had really come in handy, and really, Douglas couldn’t help but to kiss him.


	12. Platonic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> linguini17 requested: "Oh! What about platonic soul mates?"

For a while, it’s just Douglas really. He has Arthur and Carolyn, yes, and the company of whoever happens to be the captain at the time, but mostly it’s just him. Then there’s a ginger man with bright eyes and a bright mind, who indulges Douglas’ need for fun and who smiles like a child every time they take off.

So now it’s Douglas and Martin, Martin and Douglas. Captain Crieff and First Officer Richardson, and as much as Douglas would like to be captain, he thinks it’s fitting, the way things are now. Martin and him just…fit. It may have taken some time to figure out where they clicked and where they didn’t, but eventually they get to the point of not even needing words to communicate. A gesture, an expression, a shrug or eyeroll are all enough to convey a depth of meaning only they can decipher.

They don’t get it, not at first, what their closeness really means. It’s nothing romantic or sexual or anything in that territory, and they don’t need or want it to be. Their friendship is as solid as if they were married, but they’re content where they are. Years of flying together, of sharing space and hotel rooms and misery and happiness, have left them firmly on the same wavelength.

Eventually, when they’re both single and they’re both a little lonely, they move in together. It’s all good and all smooth and very domestic, but it works. They often get mistaken for a couple, people thinking their closeness equates to dating, but it isn’t that, and they mostly roll with it. Its just that it’s easy and nice to have someone that’s encouraging and understanding, that returns a greeting when they get home, someone to share meals and troubles and laughter with. Martin and Douglas slot into the corners of each other’s lives like they belong there, as different as the day and night, as balanced as yin and yang.

They’re soulmates, just not in the typical sense.


	13. Tattoo 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jay-eagle requested: "@jay-eagle said: What about one where you are born with a tattoo only you and your soulmate can see?"

Martin Crieff absently sifted through the merchandise at the market stall he was browsing. The southern United States had an interesting selection of homemade goods for sale, and he was considering bringing something home for his mother. The flight back wasn’t until the next morning and he was taking the time to explore, while his captain had vanished for somewhere with more alcohol and the cabin crew were scattered around the shops and kiosks downtown. It had only been a few months on his first actual job as a pilot, and Martin was determined to enjoy himself.

There was a bump at his elbow, another shopper accidentally crowding close, and they both apologized at the same time. Martin glanced up sheepishly at that, and the stranger gave him a charming smile. They were an older man, handsome and tall with dark hair and eyes, and Martin found himself straightening, interest peaked. The other man spoke first.

“Browsing the wares?”

A British accent, RP at that. Martin grinned.

“Well there’s certainly nothing like this back across the pond.”

The stranger’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, acknowledging Martin’s own accent and the accuracy of his comment, and Martin tried very hard to calm his heart rate. The man looked like he wanted to say more, but someone nearby called out and he turned. A quick glance down the street, and he turned back to Martin, looking apologetic.

“Ah, excuse me, I have to be going.”

“Oh! Sure, that’s fine. It was- it was nice talking to you.”

“And you as well.”

He turned to go, paused, and glanced over his shoulder at Martin.

“Nice tattoo.”

And he was gone.

Martin froze where he was, as those words sunk in. He saw Martin’s tattoo. _He saw Martin’s tattoo_. Martin had multiple tattoos, but there was only one that could be seen with what he was currently wearing, a relatively small design on his forearm, and it was only visible to either himself or…his soulmate. Seeing no sign of the man anywhere he looked, Martin cursed. Just his luck.

=

It’s years and miles away when Martin stands in the flight deck of an old Lockheed-Mcdonnell plane, currently grounded in the desert, with no power. It’s hot as hell outside, and he shucks his jacket in the hope of not suffocating. Tie removed, shirt sleeves rolled up, Martin drops into his seat and sighs. Douglas is out talking with Carolyn and Arthur is doing god knows what, and this whole thing is a mess. He stares out the window, at the firetruck blocking them in, and wonders what else is going to happen that day.

Douglas enters the flight deck, shirtless (which makes Martin raise an eyebrow for multiple reasons), and saunters over to his chair, sparing a glance at Martin’s dressed-down state. There’s a faintly amused look on his face and Martin braces himself for whatever Douglas is going to tease him about this time.

“Nice tattoo.”

Martin freezes. The inflection, the accent, the voice, and of course the fact that _Douglas can see that tattoo_ all register in Martin’s mind in a jumbled rush of remembrance and realization, and it takes him a few tries to untangle his thoughts and respond. Douglas is looking at him funny, but Martin ignores it.

“Seven years ago. A little town in the state of South Carolina. The marketplace on main street in the summer. You were there, I think, that was you?”

“It could’ve been. Certainly sounds familiar, though I must say that’s an awfully specific thing to recall.”

Douglas is looking at him with a different funny look now, but Martin is too focused on what he thinks he might’ve found, and forges ahead.

“You said the same thing back then, ‘nice tattoo’.”

“Well, I thought it was. Am I not allowed to compliment on it?”

“No, Douglas it’s not that. I…I don’t actually have a tattoo there.”

The words hang in the air between them for a moment, and Martin can see the minute shifting of Douglas’ expression, the exact moment the implication sinks in. For a long moment they just stare at each other, Martin nervously waiting for Douglas’ reaction to them being apparent soulmates.

Douglas seems to gather himself, and he tilts his head as he looks at Martin, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Martin,” he begins. “Can you see this?”

Douglas hooks a thumb in the waistband of his trousers, tugs the material down enough to bare his hip bone. Martin flushes a bit at the action, but his attention is immediately caught by the tattoo that’s now been revealed.

“Oh.” Martin breathes, and he sees Douglas shift. Martin pauses, shoots a sly smile at Douglas.

“Nice tattoo.”

Douglas laughs, and the tension that had been building abruptly disperses.

There’s still things they have to deal with, to work through (Douglas’ marriage for one), but now they can both satisfy themselves with the knowledge that their soulmate is never far off. For now, despite the heat and the situation as a whole, everything is surprisingly brilliant.


	14. Mismatched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "How about you're my soulmate but I'm not yours "
> 
> warning for suicide mention

It starts rather early on, with a name and a face and a nervous smile. The smile is warm, the face is attractive and the name is the one etched onto his forearm. _Martin Crieff_. Douglas has traced that name with his fingers more times than he cares to admit, wondering and hoping and waiting for the day he’d find him. But Martin Crieff shows no reaction to Douglas’ name, and Douglas doesn’t say a word.

Then it’s flying and clients and word games and hotel rooms, and Douglas finds himself liking Martin more than he probably should. He’s married, quite happily, as he repeatedly states ( _if he says something five times it must be true_ ), and he doesn’t want to think about what might be written on Martin’s arm.

They work well together, that much is obvious from even their early days, and they make a great team. When Douglas’ marriage collapses, he finally lets his interest in Martin manifest. Feelings he had buried deep, desire he had pushed away, all come rushing back to the front of his mind. He stares at Martin sometimes, tries to find the words to express himself, and for once his silver tongue fails him.

Then there is finally a night that seems perfect, a warm summer evening spent in Greece, music and good food and stars in the sky. Douglas looks at Martin, standing beside him, looking out over the sea, and the glow of string lights pooling in his hair, and thinks this is the opportune moment. He catches a glimpse of Martin’s bare forearm, folded on the railing and stops.

The name is someone else’s.

(Douglas quietly tucks the heartbreak away)

=

It’s rare, really rare, for one’s soulmate to not match. And of course it’s him, him with three failed marriages and a string of people he could never hold onto. Douglas wonders if it’s a sign from the universe, that he’s just meant to be alone. Even the person who’s seared onto his very skin isn’t his to have.

=

Douglas manages for a while. Gets through the day, the week, the month, until a year has passed from that night in Greece. He thinks the pain should lessen by now, and maybe it has, maybe it’s gotten more bearable, but suddenly there’s a princess in the flight deck and Douglas can’t breathe.

So he copes as he always has and he teases and he jokes and he asks about Martin’s love life while he hides and pines and breaks. He’s too old and too tired, but he soldiers on.

=

Martin mentions a third date and the words echo in Douglas’ mind for days. The next flight is overnight as well, and they’re put up in a slightly less-than-rundown hotel, sharing a room (he curses Carolyn’s need to save money), and Douglas can’t take it anymore.

A split second decision, and he’s kissing Martin.

It’s pure impulse, a release of long-term pent up feelings, frustration and desperation rising like a storm. Douglas pours everything he can into it, thinking its his only chance, and he’ll pull away in just a second, as he didn’t mean to assault his co-pilot, except…Martin is kissing him back.

It’s like euphoria, like the highest high, rushing warmth and everything he has ever wanted. Douglas wants to stay there forever, but eventually they have to breathe and the kiss breaks. Martin looks a bit shocked, eyes wide as he stares at Douglas, and that’s enough to bring sense back. Douglas sputters out an apology, as best he can, turning to leave, to run, to escape. Martin’s hand catches his wrist, holds him fast, and he faces Martin again.

But Martin isn’t looking at him. Or rather, not his face, but his arm, where the sleeve has been pushed up and ’ _Martin Crieff_ ’ can clearly be seen tattooed there. Martin stares at his name, stares at Douglas, stares at the name some more.

“…oh.” He exhales softly, heavily, and Douglas doesn’t know what to do.

Martin decides for him, pulling him closer and to the bed, nudges him into sitting. Neither say anything for a while, Douglas waiting for Martin and Martin deep in thought. Martin reaches his hand out, stops just shy of touching Douglas, hovering over his name, before moving to his own forearm and the name printed there. He swallows hard.

“The person whose name is here,” he begins, a quiet murmur as he gestures to his arm, “I’ve met them already.”

Douglas blinks in surprise, because if Martin was with his soulmate already then surely they’d have been introduced or mentioned or something, so why-

“We were sixteen when we met.” Martin continues. “Young and stupid and naive.”

He finally looks at Douglas, meets his eyes.

“He was just shy of eighteen when he died.”

Douglas feels something tight in his chest, something like horror blooming at the tragedy in that statement. Martin is in his thirties now, late thirties, and Douglas can’t imagine what it’s like to carry grief like that for so long.

“What happened?”

Douglas isn’t sure he wants to know, but he has to ask and Martin looks like he needs to tell this story.

“He was…brilliant. Smart and talented, funny and well-liked. I thought he was perfect. But his family was very religious, and his parents were so strict. God, they put so much pressure on him. Grades and sports and everything he did. And they were part of a denomination that still believed, despite the soulmate thing, that only men and women should be together. I think some part of him wanted that, to be normal in the eyes of the people around him. We got into an argument about it, he cheated on me with a girl, his father found out he had been seeing me, and well. Things got ugly, I guess. I- I hadn’t realized how bad it was, or maybe I could’ve-”

Martin cuts off with a choked sound, and Douglas reaches out, squeezes his shoulder in comfort. Martin stares hard at the bed beneath them, laying a hand over Douglas’.

“Douglas, we were so in love. I thought we’d have forever. Two years of teenage bliss, and then one morning I woke up and they told me…” Martin takes a deep breath, voice cracking, “They told me he had gotten pills from somewhere, overdosed. And he was dead.”

“…Christ.”

It’s all Douglas can really say in the face of this. Martin ducks his head and stays there for a few minutes, the silence heavy between them. Martin gets himself under control, squares his shoulders and meets Douglas’ eyes.

“Douglas, I thought when I lost him, I had lost everything. I resigned myself to being alone for the rest of my life, because he was the one I was supposed to be with. But he’s not here. You are. My point is…”

Martin pauses, shifts on the bed until there was hardly space between them.

“Maybe I don’t have your name, Douglas, but you have mine. Isn’t that enough?”

Douglas can’t speak, can hardly think. He’d been convinced for so long he’d never be with Martin, never have anything like what he wanted. But Martin is here, eyes only for him, pressed close and saying such things…Douglas can’t really help the way his eyes tear up. Like a prayer, he breathes out.

“God, I want it to be.”

Martin’s smile is a little watery, but it’s beautiful all the same, and their kiss this time is sweet and slow and gentle. All the incredulous joy of the second chance neither thought they would get.


	15. Asexual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lothiriel84 requested: "Aromantic or asexual people who have soulmates who are not and they manage to work it out."

Douglas had known Martin was his soulmate from the moment they had met, and something like static electricity had jumped between their hands when they touched. Martin had kept their interactions strictly professional, in respect to Douglas’ marriage, and Douglas had tried to keep the line firmly drawn at friendship.

It had worked all the way up until his marriage had once more fallen apart, and he was left wondering what it was this time. If it was too clashing of personalities or interests, or maybe his head had been turning too much towards Martin, or perhaps it had been his complete lack of desire for sex.

He had never wanted sex, never really felt the same urges his peers had apparently been growing into. He’d had sex, of course, gone along with how he thought he was supposed to be, convincing himself he was just a late bloomer. But that wasn’t it, and nothing had changed in forty years, and some part of him wondered if that had been part of why all his marriages had failed. His first wife had called him selfish once, though his second hadn’t seemed to mind, but his third had found fulfillment with another man. It was likely a mix of various factors each time, but it still made him anxious about pursuing anything with Martin.

As soon as he informed Martin that the marriage was over, truly over, on paperwork and everything, Martin expressed his sympathy and then casually made it clear he was interested in Douglas. The universe had already declared them meant to be, so it didn’t take long for them to become a couple. Romantic outings and flirting and stolen kisses were all comfortable territory for Douglas, but sex was surely an inevitable outcome, and Douglas, for once, wasn’t sure what to do.

It eventually got to the point where Martin seemed interested in going further, and Douglas braced himself. A hotel room, a drink or two on Martin’s part, and some snogging and groping all the way from the bar to their door had led to them standing at the foot of the bed. Douglas shifted nervously, and Martin picked up on it instantly, years of flying together making him an expert in reading Douglas.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine, I’m fine.”

Martin snorted.

“That’s my line. Seriously, Douglas, are you okay?”

There was a heavy pause, and Douglas gathered himself, ready to give some clever line or excuse, anything to keep up the sky god front, but what came out was-

“I’m not very keen on sex.”

Martin, to his credit, only cocked his head to the side.

“Ok. Are you asexual, then?”

“Am I what?”

“Asexual? You don’t experience sexual attraction? And some asexuals don’t like sex at all.”

“I…I never knew there was a word for it.”

And all at once, Martin’s gaze is sympathetic, an understanding in his eyes. Douglas swallows hard, not knowing what to do with this information, this revelation that he’s not the only one, that maybe he’s not broken. Still, satisfying his partner has always been one of his priorities, and he’s worried now that Martin will be disappointed, no matter how understanding he is.

“But surely you want sex, yes?”

Martin sighs a little, takes a moment to gather his thoughts and give the best answer he can.

“Yes, I do want sex, but the way I see it, I can go with or without sex, it’s hardly a necessity. While you firmly prefer without. Why should you have to concede your wants for something I could go either way with? I’m perfectly happy just being with you.”

There was nothing else for Douglas to do except fold himself down into Martin’s arms, bury his face in his neck, and hug him tight. Martin returned the embrace, one hand sliding up Douglas’ back. They stayed there for a while, simply pressed together.

Martin suddenly froze, like something had just occurred to him, and he nudged Douglas until their eyes met.

“Are you okay with everything else, though? The touching and kissing and sharing a bed?”

Douglas blinked at the sudden question.

“Yes, that’s all fine. Why do you ask?”

“Just wanted to be sure. Some people don’t like that either.”

“Oh. No, I’m fine with all that.”

Martin grins, bright and so utterly endearing, that Douglas has to kiss him. When they break apart, Martin keeps them close, so Douglas can feel his breath against his cheek, and Martin murmurs into the air between them.

“As long as I have you, that would be enough.”


	16. Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "Neither has the other's name when they meet. Names can change, rarely, when people change enough in significant ways. Both change quite a lot during their acquaintance at MJN. One or two particular events trigger their name tattoos to show up... But who has the courage to ask the other one first?"

Like the stars and the earth, like knowledge and feelings, people change. They grow and evolve and learn and change. And as people change, so can their soulmates. Rarely, very rarely, a person will change enough that the name emblazoned on their wrist becomes someone else.

When Douglas first joins MJN Air, the name on his wrist is a woman’s name. When Martin first joins MJN, his is too. Douglas is a hurting, bitter, down-on-his-luck man with a finely honed persona of a smooth, arrogant, casanova sky god. Martin is a prissy, uptight, anxious, rule-obsessed man with a desperate need to prove himself. Then they meet.

One flight deck, two opposite men, three changes of soulmate names between them, and four years of working together and suddenly the names on their skin are each other. Douglas’ changes first, after St. Petersburg and the bird strike and Gordon. Martin is more competent now, self-assured enough, and the friendship between them is close enough to be comfortable and solid. Douglas is no longer married, and has settled himself as first officer, the bitterness and resentment having left some time ago, and he’s let some of that sky god front dissipate. At this point in time, the universe has decreed Martin his perfect match. But he has no way of knowing what Martin’s might say. His changed names multiple times, Martin’s could have as well. He’s old and past his prime and in the end, he doesn’t say a word.

Martin’s soulmate’s name changes sometime around when MJN all meet his mother. One hushed plea and Douglas leaps to his defense, and Martin is a little struck dumb by the overwhelming affection he feels for his co-pilot. He thinks the name would’ve changed earlier if he had been a little more secure in himself and a little less concerned by what other people think. But when his mother smiles delightedly at Douglas, nearly as charmed by him as Martin himself is, he feels his nerves and doubts settle. Somehow, seeing Douglas’ name appear on his wrist really doesn’t surprise him. He’s settled it in himself, but it’s still not settled out in the open between them, which is where Martin hesitates, because there’s all sorts of uncertainties where Douglas is concerned. For now, he keeps it to himself.

And then there’s Swiss Air. Swiss Air and a job opportunity and a salary, and Martin gets an interview. Herc grates at Douglas’ skin, because that’s not his seat, not his captain, not his right, and Douglas finds himself acting like Martin used to, all territorial and uptight, and the realization makes him deflate. Martin might be leaving and it’s killing him. Then they go to pick him up and Martin got the job. _Martin got the job_. And that’s great, it’s what he deserves, it’s brilliant, but that means he’ll leave and something sharp and painful lodges in Douglas’ chest at the thought. He has to tell him.

Martin is both ecstatic and panicked as he leaves the successful interview. He managed to impress enough to get an actual job with an large airline and he’s so proud he’s made it this far, but how can he leave MJN? They’ll fold and then where will Carolyn and Arthur be, and of course, _Douglas_. He can’t leave. And he has to tell Douglas.

The opportunity arises, when they return to Fitton and Carolyn and Herc vanish and Arthur goes bouncing off to see his current girlfriend. Martin and Douglas are left alone in the portakabin and they both think it’s now or never.

“Douglas-”

“Martin-”

They start at the same time, and Martin flushes a bit, but Douglas gestures for him to go first. Before he loses his nerve, Martin inhales, and instead of saying anything, he simply bares his wrist to Douglas. There’s a heavy silence, a weight in the room, and Douglas doesn’t know what to say. So he only returns the gesture. And there they are, an entire conversation passing between them without words. Martin breaks the silence first.

“I’m not going to Swiss Air.”

“What? Martin, you have to-”

“No.” Martin cuts in. “No, Douglas, I can’t. I can’t and I’m not going to, a-and that’s final.”

Douglas wants to protest, to insist it’d be better for Martin, to give all sorts of reasons for why he should take the job, but he’s also so unspeakably grateful that he can’t do more than hold tight to Martin. Martin might still be unpaid, and maybe MJN is slowly sinking, but maybe he’ll think of something clever and everything will be fine. They’ll make it work, they always do.


	17. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous requested: "Touch is a powerful thing. Especially for Martin and Douglas. How about something with touch? Like you can feel a steady hand on your shoulder or maybe the same feeling a hug gives you when you're around your soulmate. You can play with this. So have fun."

The first time Martin feels it, he half thinks someone is trying to nick something off him. He’s in a busy airport, weaving through a crowd of passengers heading for the baggage claim. He’s got a plane to be on, and while it’s not likely to leave without one of it’s pilots, he still doesn’t want to be late. The feeling of a hand clasping his is gentle, but unexpected enough to be startling. The feeling is warm and welcoming, despite Martin’s first instinct to be wary. He whirls his head around, trying to pinpoint the cause of the feeling, but the sea of people is far too thick to make any deductions. He curses his luck, but moves on.

The second time Douglas feels it, he’s in a coffee shop in Fitton, grabbing a quick latte while he gets his daughter a hot chocolate. It’s the middle of winter, but they’re out and about anyway. He’s sitting at the table, listening as Emily tells him about her classes when the feel of a hand in his drags his attention abruptly away. The bell over the door chimes just as he turns, the warmth fading, and whoever was the cause of the sensation is gone. Emily asks if he’s alright, seeing how he’s turned to face the door, watching the empty space, and he tells her he’s fine, asks her to keep going, even as he feels a heavy disappointment for the second time.

The third time they both feel it, Carolyn Knapp-Shappey is standing between them, introducing them as new co-pilots. Martin Crieff is the recently hired captain, set to begin that very day, and Douglas Richardson is to be his first officer. Any feelings of resentment flee in the moment both their hands warm before they even reach to shake. They share a look, shock and disbelief, and Douglas reacts first, extending a hand. Martin clasps it, firm and a little bit desperate, and the feeling doubles in intensity. Something like fire races up their arms at the solid contact, and for a moment everything freezes. In that second, like gravity or the tides, they become a fact, an absolute, an inarguable reality, a pair completely meant to be. The world starts to turn again and they both breathe easier.


End file.
